


Survivor Guilt

by brodiew



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Family, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Survivor Guilt, disbelief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-05-30 11:41:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15095990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brodiew/pseuds/brodiew
Summary: After Thanos' snap, each of the surviving original Avengers grieve separately.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for Avengers: Infinity War! That is, if the spoiler statute of limitation hasn't already expired. 
> 
> 2 Chapters -Multiple ficlets

[b]Shaken[/b]

Steve Rogers had fought against genocide before. He had missed the victory then and, as he sat on a log in the Wakandan forest, he experienced the ultimate defeat. Though Hitler had been stopped, the cost was unimaginably high. Thanos had just won and the cost was exponentially higher.

Steve was not left completely alone. Some of his friends and allies had survived. But there was one person he felt had abandoned him; one person he could not imagine would would let such and action stand. Burying his face in his hands, he silently railed his grief and anger and disappointment at God. He wept angry tears at the loss of life, both near and far. He simply could not abide losing Bucky again, much less Falcon, Wanda, T'Cahlla...

For a man gifted with enhanced speed, agility, and strength, helplessness gnawed at every nerve. What good were his abilities in the face of a god-like being who could snuff out some many lives with the snap of his fingers?

He was a man acquainted with grief. Time stealing everyone he ever knew. Time moving forward and away from the purity that drove his heart. Time making him question his purpose.

He was a man acquainted with betrayal. His own government, which he had sworn to protect, had turned its back on him, attempting kill him. Another example of the corruption of the present age.

Yet, he was a man of steel resolve. A man whose faith and principles had sufficiently guided him to this place and this time. It was a resolve that had just been cut off at the knees. His faith had been shaken. He was sinking into despair, the last shreds of his hope ripping in the wind like a tattered flag falling into the muck of a blood-soaked battlefield.

In his head he knew that God had not forsaken him. That lesser beings would commit atrocities and unspeakable evil until the day He returned. But his heart ached at such a level that the light was so small as not to be seen.

What were they supposed to do now? Where was Tony? As much as he hated to admit it, Iron Man was the brains. But, for all he knew, Tony was also ashes scattered in the wind.

[b]Fractured[/b]

Tony Stark stared at the brown, flaky ashes which, moments before, had been Peter Parker. He knew he was in shock, that his body would not obey his commands. His hands seemed glued to his knees and his eyes permanently locked on ashes now fluttering away in the breeze.

Why hadn't the kid listened? Why hadn't he followed my commands? Why was he so eager to please, so eager to grow up? Why did he crave Tony's approval so much? Was he now a man whom inspired children to their deaths?

He stood, the weight of his despair hanging on him like weight every soul lost at the snap of the tyrant's fingers. He lumbered a few steps, trying clear his head, wanting to make sense of even the lives lost before his very eyes. Strange. The Guardians? Starlord. His anger flared at the rash mistake the man had made, the rage he was unable to contain even at the expense of his own life, much less the countless others. It was easy to judge in hindsight. Would he have been able restrain himself if it had been Pepper? Pepper. Was she even still alive? He fell to his knees again. Peter. Pepper. Happy. Would he even have a reason to live if they were gone? Thanos chose that half would die, but even with the gauntlet, would Thanos be able to make every single life or death decision?

Tony had thought he was alone. Left to die slowly on a distant planet. Suddenly, even through closed eyes, his vision darkened. With effort, he opened them to see the blue-grey grimace of…a stranger. Her face was feminine, on further scrutiny, but was she human or machine?

"Get up," she growled. "There is work to do."

"Who are you?" Tony asked, still dazed by despair.

"I am Nebula and you are my ticket off this rock. Now, get up. There is work to do."


	2. Survivor Guilt Chapter 2

A/N: Avengers Infinity War Spoilers below…

Humbled

The head.

The head.

The head.

How many battles had he fought? How many enemies were under his foot? How many victories had he taken by the might of Mjolnir? How many times had he struck a deathblow? How could he have been so stupid?

Thor knew the power he was fighting against. He knew the might Thanos controled. He knew he had only one chance. And, he had failed.

He had failed his brother, Loki. Such...a...bad...brother.

He had failed his Asgardian people. Decimated by Hela and extinguished by Thanos.

He had failed his adoptive people of Earth. His friends and so many more grieved in the shock of instant death.

He had failed half the beings in the universe. All those who remain grieving over a split second decision that he misjudged.

The head.

The head.

The head.

The Thunder god hung his head in shame.

 

Scared

Bruce Banner's guilt was no less potent than that of his friends; his shame no less bone-deep. He had been rescued from death by the final act of the Asgardian, Heimdall. As he lay dying, the Guardian must have seen something in the brutal beating that Hulk was receiving at the hands Thanos himself. What that was, Banner could not fathom. What had the Gatekeeper hoped to accomplish? Did he think that Hulk deserved another Title shot? That another confrontation would have a different outcome?

What he could not have foreseen was the Hulk cowering fear, hiding inside Banner, the obviously weaker vessel. What made it all the more nauseating, was that Banner knew that the Hulk was not in fact a separate person, but a part of him. The Hulk, Banner's anger, righteous or not, could not be summoned in the face of the greatest threat the universe had ever encountered. He had been week. He had allowed himself to be disabled. All but useless without his alter ego, he had been forced to use Tony's Hulkbuster armor. It had been enough for the fighting he had engaged, but how much more could the Hulk have done? At the very least, he could have died with honor.


	3. Chapter 3

Relieved

Natahsha Romanov watched in horror as the effect of one snap of the fingers ravaged the Wakandan battlefield. When the invisible scythe of the grim reaper had finished its work, so few were left standing. However, the breath so quickly sucked from her lungs returned just as suddenly at the sight of Steve sitting on a log not far away. She continued her survey and her shoulders, clenched in desperation, released at the sight of Bruce standing next to Thor in the shadow of the Hulkbuster. Wanda was gone. Falcon, Bucky, and T'Challa, as well. Vision lay darkened; as grey and lifeless as the ashes piling up around them.

It took 22 minutes for her phone to buzz. She saw message from Clint and her lips ticked up. The pounding in her head began to subside. Clint was alive. Cooper was with him. Laura, Lila, and little Nate were gone. The drumbeat began anew.

Though her messages to Fury had gone unanswered, she could not believe that odds had failed him this time.

No one seemed to know what to say. No one seemed to want to look at each other. She watched as Steve put his face in his hands. She wanted to got him, to comfort him. She turned to Bruce and could see his inner torment dancing in his down cast eyes. She want to go to him as well. She had missed him. He had made the choice to leave and had somehow lost himself in his quest for answers. She still cared for him, but doubted that the spark they once shared would ever return. And then there was Clint. Her friend. Her brother. Her confidant. At least, he had been in another life. Who would he be now?

Without warning, a wave of guilt crashed down on her. What was she thinking? How could she be relishing those who lived when countless others had died. And not just the nameless and the faceless. Her friends. Her...family. Her core had lived and the shame at her relief clung to her like a putrid parasite. She comforted none of them and ducked out of the cleaning on to the plain where tangible death could distract her, if only for a moment.


End file.
